Under the Mistletoe
by America's Nantucket
Summary: This is a late Christmas fic. Alfred gives Arthur a diary for his Christmas present, but Arthur takes offense and storms out the house. How will Alfred forgive him? USUK smut in second chapter. Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur stared at the present that was shoved in his face by the blond man in front of him. "Um...what is this?"

"A present for you, of course!" the blond haired man said, going by the name Alfred. "It's Christmas, isn't it?"

"I guess so,"

"So, open it, dude!"

"Fine! Don't rush me, Alfred," Arthur took the gift from Alfred's hand and started to slowly unwrap it, looking a little surprised to see what he got him. "Where'd you find this...?" The gift Arthur got was some sort of notebook with a Union Jack on the front.

Alfred snickered a little. "I found it in the GIRLS section of the mall." He giggled a little more before continuing to talk. "In other words...it's a diary."

"WHAT THE HELL, ALFRED?" Arthur growled angrily. "Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"What? No, dude! I'm serious about this! You seem so feminine, bruh," Alfred drummed his fingers on his knee. "I thought this was the perfect gift for you."

Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples softly. Was he really that feminine that everyone noticed? Not that he WAS feminine...right? "Al...just...I'm going to go." He stood up, still rubbing his head and heading for the door."

Alfred reached out to him. "Dude, wait! The Christmas Party isn't over yet-"

"TO HELL WITH THE PARTY!" Arthur yelled, slamming the door behind him.

After Arthur left, Alfred cursed under his breath. "Dammit, I went too far again..." As he was about to get up, the kitchen door was busted open and out came two people stumbling out, drinks in each hand.

"H-hey, Al," one of them slurred. "What...what's with all th' slammin' and stuff?"

"Ludwig, not now," Alfred groaned. He was now rubbing his temples as well. "Arthur's kinda pissed at his Christmas present I got him. He just now left."

Ludwig nodded, taking another swig of beer and leaning on the shorter, red haired man. "I...I see. Uhm, well he's missing out, you know?"

"L-Ludwig...you're...leaning on...on me," the other man said, his curl that protruded from the right side of his head twitching uncomfortably. He shakily took a sip of his drink and shivered.

Alfred shook his head, making his way into the kitchen and passing the two drunks. Once there, he let out a silent sigh. It seemed that Gilbert and Roderich were STILL kissing under the mistletoe, Ivan and Yao were being creepy, and Francis...well, being Francis.

Making his way to the living room, Alfred found the couch and sat on it. "God, I feel horrible."

"What's the matter, Alfred?" a soft voice said, almost inaudible. "Do you have a headache?"

Alfred turned his head slightly. "Nah. I'm alright, Matthew. I just messed up today is all."

Matthew creased his brow. "What happened? Was it Arthur...?"

"Yeah. I gave him his Christmas present...but he didn't like it," Alfred put both his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm wondering where the hell I went wrong at."

"Well, what did you get him?"

"A diary."

"...O-oh," Matthew looked away for a second. "Not to be rude, brother, but...I think that's where you went wrong." He then flinched a little, as if he was ready to get yelled at.

Alfred sat there for a moment, then sighed. "You're probably right, bruh. What was I thinking?"

Realizing no one yelled, Matthew straightened out. "You should go and apologize, eh? I think that would make things a little better for the two of you."

Alfred started to nod at his brother's request. "I should. Thanks Matthew," He swerved his body slightly and put his hand out, gesturing a handshake.

Matthew put out his hand and shook his hand. He was suddenly confused when Alfred started to add other things to the handshake. "Uhm...Alfred?"

"Sorry, bro. Got carried away." Alfred laughed.

Matthew laughed as well. Although, it was very faint. "It's okay, Alfred..."

X

Arthur locked himself in his room. "What the hell was that bloody twat thinking?" he shouted in his pillow, gripping it by the sides. "A diary? Seriously..." Lifting his head up from the pillow, he looked at the ground. The 'diary' that he smacked on the ground was just laying there, mocking him.

Grumbling, Arthur turned his body out of bed and reluctantly grabbed the diary. "Ugh...bollocks, this is not right," he muttered, flipping through the pages. The more he flipped, the more irritated he got. "God, I'm so mad! I just need to write it down to express how utterly mad I am! I-" Arthur paused, looking down at the empty diary, then grimacing. "Am I really going to do this?"

Arthur reached out and grabbed a pencil from his desk and stood up to sit in his chair. Opening back up the diary, he put the point of his pencil on the first line of the paper. "Here goes..."

~ Wow. Am I really writing in this? What am I supposed to write? Although, I'm pretty mad right now...that damn idiot. By 'idiot', I mean that stupid Alfred. He's the one who gave me this diary. Do I look like a girl? "You seem so feminine," he had said, obnoxious as ever. "So here's a diary!" That twat! I'm not feminine! I'm just a very formal man, is all.

Oh well. As I was saying, Alfred got me this diary for Christmas. I was actually pretty surprised to see it had my favourite flag on it, the Union Jack. I didn't want to show it, but I was a little happy. JUST A LITTLE!

Anywho, I'm getting a little sidetracked. The Christmas Party was good. But 'good' as in Gilbert and Roderich getting a little too frisky under the mistletoe, Feliciano and Ludwig getting drunk of their arses, and that silly Alfred failing horribly at Karaoke. That kind of good. Well, I should wrap my entry up here. Cheerio~ ~

"...Hm," Arthur gently closed the diary and let out a brief sigh. "Maybe this wasn't all so bad after all!"

X

Alfred quickly jogged through the crisp, cold air, shivering slightly as he took each step. "Brr, c-cold weather s-sucks," he shuddered, pushing his chin down to put his nose in his scarf. "Arthur's house shouldn't be that far away now..."

As he approached the last door on the right, he took his thickly gloved hand out of his warm pocket and knocked three times. "Artie, answer the door, please!"

Arthur abruptly jumped out of his seat. Was that...Alfred? "W-wait a tick!" he yelled out, fumbling the pencil in his hands and quickly rushing to the door. "Coming!"

Alfred was about to knock again until the door opened. "Oh. Hey, Arthur," he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I just came over here to-"

"Look, I don't really care, America."

"...apologize," continued Alfred, putting his hand back in his pocket. He felt around in there to see if he still had what he was going to get out. Still there.

Arthur stared up at Alfred for a few seconds. Is he really apologizing? "Um...well, I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that, Alfred..." he said, blushing a bit.

"Aw, dude! Come on! It's Christmas!" Alfred pouted. "Aren't you supposed to be jolly and giving?" His hand was coming out of his pocket inch by inch. But not quickly. Just really slowly.

Arthur had his eyes locked on his hand but looked up when Alfred started to talk again. What was he taking out?

"So...do you forgive me?" Alfred said, grinning widely.

"Uhm..." Arthur huffed out, still looking up at Alfred. "I guess, Al. But-"

Alfred abruptly cut him off, putting his left arm around the Brit's waist and pulling him into him.

Arthur jumped back a little but couldn't because of Alfred's arm around him. "A-Alfred...! What-"

"Look up," Alfred said, cutting Arthur off again. "I have something to show you."

"Ugh, you twit..." Arthur glanced up briefly, only to dart them away as soon as he saw what was up there. Alfred had a mistletoe above them between his two fingers. "...O-oh..."

Smiling, Alfred snaked his left hand up Arthur's body up to his chin, tilting it up a little. "You know what that means, Right, Artie?" he said, pressing his forehead against the other's.

Arthur had a crazy set of blush set upon his cheeks. He swallowed hard. "...Y-yes." he choked out, blushing too much to even speak.

"Then pucker up," Alfred tilted his head to the side and pushed his lips into Arthur's with warmth. "Merry Christmas, Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur blushed even more as Alfred kissed him. Not to mention calling him by his full name. He's always hated that. But when Alfred said it...it didn't bother him as much. Slowly, he moved his hands around the other's body, pushing himself deeper into his kiss. "Merry Christmas...Alfred F. Jones." 


	2. Chapter 2

When Alfred broke the kiss, there was a thin line of drool connecting to both their mouths. He quickly wiped the corner of his mouth.

Arthur blushed lightly. "Um ... that was ... nice," he managed to say. "Y-you should come in, Alfred; it's rather chilly outside."

"Heh, thanks dude," Alfred said, taking a big step inside so Arthur could close the door. He started to unwrap his scarf from his neck and pulling off his gloves, setting the down on the nearest chair. "So Arthur, do have any last Christmas plans you're going to do?"

Arthur quickly shook his head. "Ah, no, not much," He trailed off when he saw Alfred looking at the 'diary' he gave him. "Um-"

"Have you been using this, Artie?" Alfred rudely interrupted, picking up the notebook and flipping through it.

"Y-yes, a little," Arthur responded, blushing again. He didn't want Alfred to see what he wrote in there! After all, people shouldn't go through another person's things, right? "A-Alfred, I would like for you to not look in that ..."

"Why?" Alfred questioned, "Is there something bad in it?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then it's fine, dude! I won't judge, don't worry," Alfred started reading the first page. "Wow, you have such pretty penmanship, Artie. I've never met another man who dots their i's with hearts." A smug grin appeared on his lips. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"Shut up, git!" Arthur growled. "At least it's clear and understandable, unlike yours." He made grabby hands at the diary.

Alfred moved it out of his reach. "Haha, can't reach it, can ya, Artie?"

"Give it back now, Al," the Brit said, obviously annoyed. "It's rude and disrespectful to look at others' belongings."

Alfred continued to hold the diary above him. "Gotta get it from me!" he teased, putting his right palm on Arthur's forehead and pushing him back.

"L-let me go, America!" Arthur struggled. "I can't see!"

"Come on, man!" Alfred continued to tease. "You're no fun! Why you gotta be all angry about this, huh?"

"I'm not getting agr- URF!" Arthur was cut off as he was forcefully pushed back on the bed. "What the hell's your problem?"

Alfred shrugged. "It was the only way to stop your whining," he responded, keeping the Brit down with a playful smirk. "Seems to be working."

'What the hell is going on with him?' Arthur thought, his large eyebrows creasing. 'This is not like Alfred ... what has gotten into him?' "A-Al," he swallowed. "what ... are you doing?"

Alfred seemed to smirk again at Arthur's question. "Isn't it obvious, Artie?"

"Umm ... no, it's not, actually," Arthur tried to say before Alfred spoke again. "Just what are you trying to do-"

Once again, Arthur was cut off. Alfred laid all his weight onto the smaller nation's chest, resting his chin on his hands. "No plans, right?" he finally said, staring into Arthur's emerald green eyes. "I have some plans we could make, I mean, if it's okay with you."

"U-um ..." Arthur was becoming speechless and flushed quickly. "Well, it depends on what kind of plans you want to make, Alfred ..."

"God, Artie, you're so formal," Alfred said, sounding annoyed. "I thought I was the dumb one who couldn't read the atmosphere."

Arthur quickly grit his teeth. "Are you insulting me now?" he yelled frantically throwing his arms around to get free. "I am way more sophisticated than you are!"

"Huh. really, Arthur? Would you still be sophisticated if I did this?" Alfred sat up (still putting his weight on him) and moved the palms of his hands onto the Brit's chest, slowly moving them to the hem of his shirt and pulling up, his cold hands touching the other's warm skin.

Arthur gasped out. "A-Alfred ... your hands ..."

"What about them?" Alfred said, roaming his cold hands over Arthur's chest.

"... they're cold," Arthur continued to say, shivering at the places Alfred touched him. "W-warn me next time, you git."

"Geez, sorry," Alfred huffed, lifting up more of the Brit's shirt until it was completely off. "Ah, what's this I see?" A cheeky grin appeared on his face.

Arthur's eyebrows creased uncomfortably. "A-Alfred, put my shirt b-back on, it's cold in here ..." he shuddered, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock!" Alfred exclaimed obnoxiously. "Ya got hard nips, dude!"

Arthur gasped and covered his chest even more. "T-that's inappropriate, America!"

"But it's true! I can see them all the way from here!"

"ALFRED!"

"Heh, sorry, Artie," Alfred continued to touch softly at the Brit's stomach, chuckling softly as he saw him twitch. "Man, you're sensitive ..."

"Alfred ... stop doing that," Arthur twitched again as the American's fingers traced lower and lower, eventually stopping at the start if his pants.

Alfred grinned as he started to pull them down. "Do you know what my plans are now, Arthur?" he said, raising a sly eyebrow.

Arthur looked at him with a slightly annoyed look, shuddering again as a cold breeze hit his legs. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I know now ..." He suddenly got a shy look and blushed hard. "Use lubrication."

"Dude, of course I'm going to use lube!" Alfred said, digging into his back pocket and taking out a small bottle, dangling it in Arthur's face. "See? I told you I was ready!"

Arthur sighed lightly. He felt kind of embarrassed that Alfred was planning this and he wasn't prepared at all. Hell, he didn't even know this was going to happen!

"Artie?" Alfred said in his innocent voice. "Why do you blush so much? I've noticed that you've been blushing ever since I kissed you." He took his belt out of the loops of his pants and chucked it aside on the floor.

"I-I'm cold," he responded blatantly, shivering.

"Well, yeah, dude. I already clarified that ya got hard nips, right?" Alfred chuckled, letting his pants drop to his knees. "Oh, damn! It IS cold in here!"

"B-be quiet, Alfred!" Arthur shushed loudly at the other. "Aren't you supposed to be preparing ... me or ... something ...?" He got fidgety.

"Oh, right!" Alfred put his hands under the Brit's legs and lifted them up slightly, taking off the rest of his Union Jack boxers as he did so.

Arthur felt the embarrassing blush come back to his face. He was so nervous about what was about to take place, yet couldn't wait for it to happen. "Alfred," he said, shuddering at the chilly air that hit his lower region. "I ... I'm ... a little nervous."

"Hn?" Alfred looked up briefly. He was getting his two fingers lubricated. "Ahh, don't be nervous, Artie," he said, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. "It's not like it's your first time, right?

Arthur went completely silent.

"Oh, dude! Is is your first time, isn't it?" Alfred exclaimed somewhat excitedly. "Virgins are so fun, HAHA!"

"Once again, that's inappropriate!" Arthur hissed, closing his legs a little.

"Well, what we're about to do isn't appropriate either," the American said. "So, I think we're on the same page here, bruh."

Arthur was silent again."F-fine, just hurry up, I'm getting- NNG-!"

"Impatient," Alfred grumbled, finishing Arthur's sentence as he slid his first finger inside. "Geez and tight!"

Arthur squirmed. "Fuck ...! A-Alfred!"

"Hey, hey, no naughty language, Artie,"

"You .. caught me f-fucking off guard!"

"Hey! No more F bombs, dude!" Alfred said seriously, but spontaneously bursting out into a laugh. "Haha, bomb joke. Damn it, lost my train of thought."

Arthur moaned uncomfortably, hoping to get Alfred's attention back to him. "A-Al," he choked out. "S-second finger ..."

"Huh? Oh, you ready for the second one?" Alfred pressed his middle finger to the Brit's entrance and slowly pushed it inside. "Gosh, where's that spot?" He started to scissor his fingers in and out, trying to find the other's sweet spot that would make him go crazy.

Arthur suddenly bucked his hips forward, stifling out a yelp. "-NGH! Al-Alfred ...!"

"Hehe, found it~" Alfred hummed, snickering a little. "Prostate, activate!" He pressed down with his finger gently.

"Ah-AHHH!" Arthur screamed, arching his back and coming on contact; without stimulation.

"Aww yeah," Alfred chuckled, watching the last of Arthur's orgasm. "Heh, I never knew you were a screamer, Artie."

"S-shut up ..." Arthur retorted tiredly. "G-get your fingers out of me now ..."

"Oops, sorry. Got caught up in the moment," Alfred slowly removed his two fingers from him. Looking at them, he recoiled. "Eww!"

Arthur groaned. "Ugh ... what is it?"

"This!" Alfred shoved his fingers in the Briton's face. "You got blood on them! Gross!" He wiped his messy fingers on Arthur's leg.

"Ah, what are you ...! ALFRED!"

"What? It's your nasty blood,"

"Just ... never mind," Arthur sat up slightly, wiping of the white, sticky substance that somehow managed to get on his face.

Alfred felt a twitch in his lower region. Arthur looked so cute, he couldn't hold back any longer. "Arthur ..." he whispered, pushing the Brit back down with his finger and softly kissing him on the lips.

"A-Alfred, what-" Arthur was cut off by the warm feel of Alfred's lips on his once again. It wasn't like their first one they had not to long ago, this one was more rough and vigorous. His legs were slowly being hoisted up into the air as he continued to kiss back. "N-nn-!"

Alfred reached his left hand out to grab the lube bottle that was left on the side of the bed and opened it again. "Arthur, it's okay," he whispered, shimmying down his boxers a little bit and grasping Arthur by the hips. "Just relax."

Arthur squirmed in the American's sudden grasp at his hips. "A-Alfred ... nngh ..."

"Shh," Alfred shushed again, stroking his Florida to hardness as he coated it with some lube. "It won't hurt if you relax, Artie ..." He removed his hand and brought the Briton's hips forward, entering him slowly.

Arthur immediately yelped in pain. "A-AH! Alfred ...! Nnngh-!"

"I said relax," Alfred grunted, managing only the tip inside. "I t-told you it was going to hurt. Bear it for a while, bruh."

"F-fuck ... NNG!" Arthur cursed and held back a pained scream in his throat. "A-Alfred, it hurts ...!"

"I know, I know," Alfred said gripping the Brit's hips harder. "If you would just relax ..."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut tightly and moaned. How could he relax? "Nn ... Al, please ...!" he whined, wrapping his legs around Alfred's back.

"God, Artie, y-you're so impatient," Alfred said, sliding his hand up Arthur's chest and taking one of his nipples in his fingers to fondle with. "Relax now."

Arthur squeaked. "Ah! W-what are you ...!"

"Getting you relaxed," Alfred said with a slight grin, using both hands. "If this doesn't work, I might use my mouth~"

"A-Alfred, no ... please s-stop ..." Arthur squirmed uncomfortably as Alfred continued to touch him.

"Alright, I'll stop," Alfred removed his hands away from Arthur's chest and moved them back onto his waist, where he gave a subtle jerk of his hips. "Ah, there we go." Propping his legs back up onto his shoulders, he started a slow pace. "Damn, you feel amazing, Artie ..."

"Uugh ..." was all Arthur could muster out. He just wanted to at least try and enjoy this ...

As Alfred thrust away, he started rubbing the inside of Arthur's thigh spontaneously, getting extra close to Big Ben. He gently touched it, wrapping his fingers around the tip and thumbing softly.

"Ahff-!" Arthur seethed, subconsciously bucking his hips into the other's hand "Nnngh ... Alfred ..."

"Shh," Alfred hushed again with a slight strain in his voice. "Does it feel good?"

"... Y-yes ..."

Alfred nodded silently and gave another gentle thrust of his hips; his right hand still working Arthur's length. His breathing was becoming slightly erratic with each thrust. "A-Arthur ... I'm almost there ..." he breathed out, climax getting ready to hit.

Arthur dug his nails into the bedsheets and groaned. "A-Alfred ...!" His climax was coming extremely close as well.

"Fuck ...! Arthur!" With one last thrust, Alfred came, flopping his head onto the Brit's chest and letting out a long moan.

Arthur let out a stifled scream and gripped the bedsheets harder, feeling a warm sensation build up inside him. "A ... Alfred ... oh God ...!"

"Uff ..." Alfred seethed, riding out the last of his orgasm. "Oh, Arthur ..." he groaned slowly starting to slump down.

Arthur breathed out sharply as Alfred's weight was being put on him again. His climax was coming close as he tried to get the other's hand to move once more. "Ahn ... A-Al, please ... I need to ..."

Alfred shakily lifted himself up, pulling out slowly as he moved his hand up Big Ben. It wasn't as good as before; his hand was a little slow and with sloppy movements but at least he was doing something.

"Ngh-!" Arthur almost immediately came to the feel of Alfred's hand around him again. "A-ah ...! Alfred, I'm ...!" he screamed climax quickly rising. "I'm going to ...!" Suddenly, he tensed his muscles and came into Alfred's hand, letting out an embarrassing moan.

Alfred let the sticky, white substance splatter on fingers, not minding if it got on his face. "Arthur," he whispered, using his other hand to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "I love you."

Arthur felt his chest heave up and down as he turned to face the American. "I ..." He hesitated for a few moments to catch his breath. "love you too, Alfred ..." Putting his arms around him, he tilted his chin up slightly to meet Alfred's lips. "I ove you ... so much."

X

"So," Alfred said, cuddling up to the smaller nation. "what was your favorite part?"

"Excuse me? What kind of question is that?" Arthur blushed. What in the world made Alfred ask such a question? "Why in the bloody hell would I have a favourite part?"

"Oh? You don't have a favorite part?" Alfred teased, squeezing the side of the Briton's stomach. "Does that mean you loved ALL of it? Come on, Artie! I know I made ya feel good for your first time~!"

Arthur covered his face with the blanket."S-shut up, you git. I'm not answering that silly question."

"Awh, Arthur!"

"I SAID NO!"

"I see how it is," Arthur said slyly, sticking his tongue out and licking up Arthur's neck playfully. "Maybe you'll tell me if we ... have one more round? Hm?"

Arthur's face became red again. "U-um ... well ..."

"Hmm?"

"... I-it's a possibility," he finally said, scooting deeper inside the covers.

Alfred's face immediately lit up. "Oh yeah! Dude, the second time's always the best! You'll definitely wanna tell your favorite part then!"

"A-alright," Arthur said a little hesitantly. He then said something quietly under his breath so Al couldn't hear. "I can't wait ..." 


End file.
